“Blood Harvest,” Elenya said, picking at the freshly healed wounds with a wide grin. “The more blood I spill, the more flame I get back. A neat little combination with the medallion.”

  Wretch raised an eyebrow. His own Fireling-Blessing was unmatched in destructive force, but it did come with a steep cost, both in flame and preparation. The massacre in the church had made it painfully clear he could not rely on it alone. If the enemies lasted longer than a few minutes, he was in trouble. But this solved the issue, as long as the enemies were numerous and bled.

  “So now, as long as we keep killing,” he said, “we can go on forever.”

  Elenya only chuckled in response, her chin held high enough to risk a muscle strain. A few soldiers by their side must have overheard him, their eyes flickering between them with fearful looks.

  Astrid adjusted her glasses as they moved through the winding stone corridors. “What about your name?”

  “Elenya, Ender of Hordes.”

  “Don’t think I’ll slow down just because you're a fresh Fireling,” Wretch said as he looked up at her with his dark eyes, clothes shredded to the point that they revealed the scales beneath.

  She met his gaze with a hard look. After a moment, they both broke into similar houndlike grins.

  Fifteen minutes later and several feet below ground, the Richters walked through the panicking station with Conrad in tow, the new Ember in a state of muted shock.

  The chaos of the station could be heard long before they laid eyes upon it. Shouts and screams reverberated along the tunnels. When they turned a corner, it was clear why. Civilians and soldiers climbed over each other to get onto a train that had barely stopped. Uniformed men and women shouted orders to no avail.

  “So you’re telling me the major left you in charge of the defense?” Astrid asked, struggling to make herself heard over the noise.

  “You can ask him yourself,” Edmund said as he steered them toward a pair of guarded stairs.

  They ascended the steps into a room lit only by a single gas lamp. A group of soldiers stood around the stout major, packing papers into a suitcase. In the room’s corner, an operator hunched over a clicking telegraph, scribbling furiously onto a piece of paper with one hand. Dalynja and her remaining crewmate were seated in chairs along the wall, seemingly unscathed. The massive dog lay on the floor before them.

  “Sir!” the machine operator spoke without looking up. “The last train from Stonemourn has been dispatched. Arrival in sixty minutes.”

  The major frowned but glanced up at Edmund as they entered.

  “Your underlings made it back, that’s a boon. What’s the situation above?”

  In a corner of the room sat three battered prisoners, gagged and bound. Their clothes were torn, ill-fitting uniforms without ranks. Wretch’s eyes went wide. Something tugged at his limbs for control.

  “We have no communication with the rest of the fortress,” Edmund said. “If there are pockets of resistance out there, we can’t reach them. Two Blessed made it back, and Corporal Conrad here became an Ember a minute ago.”

  “It would have held,” the major said, pressing another handful of papers into the suitcase. “My damn fortress would have held if it weren’t for you bastards.”

  He turned to the three prisoners and raised an eyebrow. Wretch was standing over them, nose close to one of their necks, sniffing. A clawed hand brushed against an exposed throat.

  “Gulschak,” he whispered through sharp teeth. A shiver ran down the bound man.

  “Don’t worry,” the major said. “The church will give them a fate far worse than death.”

  Wretch’s voice was an inhuman growl as he answered.

  “Give me one,” Wretch said without taking his eyes from the prisoner.

  The major’s bushy brow furrowed deeper than it already was. “You will not hurt them.”

  Wretch swiveled his head around. The soldiers behind the major took a step back at the sight of his visage. His mouth was open in a hiss of teeth, a squirming long tongue, and black eyes wide.

  “You said you wouldn’t leave,” Wretch growled. “And now you flee. A Blaze leaving the unblessed to die.”

  “Give me one,” he repeated in an inhuman voice.

  Edmund was by his side, placing a gentle hand on Wretch’s shoulder. “It’s alright, son. Leave them be. The city will make them talk in ways we can’t.”

  Wretch shot his captain a look and, with a snarl, ripped his claws away from the prisoner’s throat.

  The major shook his head at the spectacle. He turned, straightening out his medal-infested uniform before continuing. “It’s time we were on our way.”

  His entourage grabbed their belongings and pulled the prisoners to their feet.

  “What about the last train?” Elenya said.

  “We won’t take any chances,” the major answered with a shake of his head. “You don’t risk a dozen Blessed for a hundred kindling.”

  “Major, with all due respect,” Edmund said, stepping forward, “these people will die without us.”

  The major looked at him, eyes turned to slits. “They might. A train is still coming, but the fortress could be ashes by then.”

  He walked toward the door, entourage in tow, a group of soldiers pulling the prisoners away from Wretch’s deadly stare.

  “Major!” Edmund’s voice cut over the rumbling outside. The smaller man stopped and turned with a frown.

  “I request command of the remaining forces,” Edmund said. “We’ll hold the station until the last train arrives.”

  They locked eyes, Edmund a good three heads taller.

  “Us Blessed are tactical assets, Captain,” the major answered in a grim tone. “Don’t make me reconsider my earlier proposal.”

  Edmund didn’t blink.

  “One hour, if you can spare me some flame through the medallion in our possession,” he said, gesturing to the red medallion around Elenya’s neck.

  “You won’t last half,” the major answered. “There are a handful of chieftains out there. All Blazes. These aren’t beasts from the sewer, hunter.”

  “I’ve been a Fireling for decades. This is my chance to ascend. Let me save these people, your people.”

  “What about your crew?” the major retorted. “Are you going to take them with you in this needless martyrdom?”

  “I’m staying.” Two voices responded without delay, one a growl, the other clear. Wretch and Elenya both stared at the officer as they spoke.

  It was silent for a moment. Looks turned to the tiny healer.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “I’m not leaving my crew,” Astrid said finally. “I’ve seen what they can do.”

  The major frowned, then sighed.

  “Permission granted. Corporal Conrad, on my six. Melissa, stay and assist the hunter captain,” the major said as he walked away.

  A soldier in tow froze, turning pale as milk. The major’s entourage hurried by them, a few touching Elenya’s necklace to pass them flame.

  Dalynja and her remaining hunter walked past with their dog in tow. The beast cast them a glance as it lumbered past.

  “I am sorry, Edmund. I am not dying here. Let’s meet again,” Dalynja said.

  She stopped to whisper something in Edmund’s ear.

  “Dalynja,” Astrid said, looking up from her wide-brimmed hat.

  She looked down at the healer with a blank stare. Astrid untethered the crossbow from her belt, the one that had belonged to Gulner. She held it out.

  “This carries your name.”

  For a moment, Dalynja’s expression cracked, contorting with guilt before she forced it back into a blank stare.

  “You acquired it on a mission. It’s yours now,” she said, then quickly descended the steps to the waiting train, not sparing them another look.

  They were left in the doorway, the Richters and a quivering soldier called Melissa.

  “I won’t force you to stay,” Edmund said. “In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

  Elenya scoffed. “With all due respect, Captain, that ain’t happening.”

  Wretch stared after the prisoners hauled onto the train. “I’m not running. If the Gulschak's wanted these people to die, just that is enough for me to stay.”

  Astrid nodded with a sigh. “After what I saw Wretch do in that church, we are far from defenseless.”

  Melissa stared at them as if they were mad, and surely they looked the part. Elenya, head almost reaching the ceiling, a massive cleaver in hand. Wretch with a tail, claws, and black orbs for eyes. Astrid in a torn regal dress with a dented chest plate. And finally, the older, businesslike Captain Edmund.

  “I don’t deserve to have you by my side,” he said. “Not after I let the major split us up. But I’m Edmund the Selfless. I can’t leave these people when I know we can save them.”

  A moment later, the train whistled and with a screech it began to move, the Blessed having forced their way inside. The screams and pleas of those surrounding it grew louder in response. Civilians and soldiers alike scrambled to climb the spiked machine. Some figures fell onto the tracks behind the metal beast.

  And it was gone, disappearing through the tunnel connected to the railroad bridge.

  Edmund placed two fingers in his mouth and let out a ringing whistle. The hall froze, every face turning toward the stairs.

  “I am Captain Edmund Richter,” he bellowed over the hall without hesitation. “Under orders of Major Dimitrov, this station is under my command.”

  “I’m Blessed, so are my colleagues,” he continued, gesturing to the sides. “A train is coming, and we’ll hold the station until then.”

  The crowd looked at him in silence.

  “But I can’t do that alone,” he scanned over a hundred fearful faces. “If you want to live. If you want to see your loved ones again…”

  “You will follow my every command.”

  He put a hand on Astrid’s shoulder, a woman in a black dress standing between a female giant and a half-human with claws and tail, both flaked in dried gore.

  “Now. Every able man and woman, bar the doors with whatever you find. Those who cannot fight, gather by the tunnel. We raise a barricade. Astrid here is in charge of the fortifications.”

  “One hour,” Edmund continued. “That is how long I need you to stand. One hour until the last train to life arrives. Now move.”

  He clapped his hands together. As if a spell had broken, the station erupted, but this time with a semblance of coordination. Soldiers who had lamented in despair now stood shouting orders. Civilians who had crawled along the tracks now shuffled toward the far end of the hall, straightening their clothes.

  “They just needed a purpose shoved down their throat,” Wretch said, watching the scene.

  “They aren’t like us,” Elenya said, leaning on her cleaver. “They hide behind the walls and pray nothing crawls from the dark.”

  Astrid adjusted her glasses, sharp green eyes watching Edmund. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you already had a fourth Blessing.”

  “Let’s not waste any time,” Edmund said. “Melissa!”

  The soldier shot straight as if struck by lightning.

  “You are in charge of Astrid’s safety. She’s the most important of us. Gather whoever you need.”

  “Sir, yes sir!” Melissa said, hurrying down the stairs.

  Edmund gave a faint smile. “Perhaps I could get used to this command thing.”

  “So,” Wretch said, drumming his claws against the hilt of his blade. “How do we do this? A clean barricade and wait?”

  “If something comes along with explosive power, we’re in trouble,” Edmund said.

  Astrid rubbed her chin. “We have to keep the soldiers alive. If they perish and turn into hounds, we’ll lose control just like in the church…”

  She paused, no doubt reliving a horrific scene from earlier. With a shake of her head she seemed to cast it off.

  “Bar the door, then build a corridor. Force them into a choke point. Crossbows and spears to the sides.”

  Wretch licked his sharp teeth.

  “What’s the catch?”

  She met his gaze.

  “If they break the door, they’ll funnel through the gap. You three must stand in the way.”

  “It’s my mess,” Edmund answered, leaning on the railing. “I’ll be there.”

  Wretch looked up toward Elenya. She stared back with a blank expression. For a moment both were silent, then they cracked into dry chuckles.

  Astrid raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ll take that as a yes?”

  “It’s a plan,” Edmund said, pulling a gloved hand through his dark hair. “Let’s get to it.”

  They descended the stairs into the torrent of activity. Soldiers and civilians alike carried furniture, luggage, and discarded equipment. Anything heavy enough to slow claws and teeth. Astrid directed them like a conductor while Edmund arranged the soldiers into a chain of command.

  Twenty minutes later, the great doors, the only entrance, were barred, sealed under a mountain of debris. Behind them, two barricades formed a narrowing path into the station, jutting spears on each side like the exterior of the trains.

  The hall was quiet now, only the odd hushed whisper or prayer. Grips tightened around weapons and the civilians gathered close.

  They had prepared what they could. Now came the waiting.

  Wretch, now seated on a stack of boxes, took a swig of water from a waterskin. In front of him, Edmund delivered orders to the last of the troops. Elenya lay on the floor with her eyes closed, perhaps watching her own flame.

  Astrid was to his left, her gaze sweeping over the barricades. Wretch caught a slight tremor in her hands.

  “How do you do it?” Astrid asked, her tone straight and to the point as always.

  Elenya opened an eye and Wretch looked up. Another tremor shook the floor.

  “How do you just charge straight at death like that?” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I ask you to stop an army, and you laugh?”

  Wretch rubbed his chin and let his black eyes trail over the hall. Civilians and soldiers were watching them, averting their gaze as soon as he noticed them. They were nervous.

  “It’s what we’re good at,” Elenya said, sitting up with a stretch.

  Wretch exhaled slowly, forcing away the thoughts of the Gulschaks, taking back control from the beast of anger and hatred that demanded only bloodshed. It would get its fill soon enough.

  “Us two can barely read, can’t count past a hundred, don’t know how an engine works. Astrid, we are good for nothing.”

  Elenya nodded and continued his thought. “Except hurting, and the flame rewards us for it. It’s a purpose, if nothing else.”

  Astrid looked at them for a moment.

  “I remember meeting you both for the first time. A lost giant and a ragged vagrant. You’ve changed so much.”

  “You’ve got to have something to prove,” Wretch said quietly.

  That made Elenya pause, and she sat up slowly, looking at her scout, if you could even call him that any longer.

  “What did you need to prove?” she asked, almost demanding it.

  Wretch hesitated, eyebrows knitted in thought.

  “I guess… I needed something so badly that everything else didn’t matter.”

  Elenya stared at him.

  “What was it?” she asked.

  “Huh?” Wretch said, tilting his head, caught off guard.

  “I’ve been running for three years, ascending from Ember to Fireling. But I still see them when I close my eyes. The neighbors, the baker’s son, my old gang. Dead. But you, the things they did to you in that mansion. It would have broken anyone. It would have broken me. What did you need to prove?”

  Wretch studied her face. He knew she had suffered, something related to her old name, Butcher of Yenvograd. When he answered, his voice was almost lost beneath the beat of the approaching war drums.

  “That she was wrong. That I’m worth more than five pounds. That I’m not a wretch. That Akim was wrong, that the professor was wrong, and that my father was right. I’ll hurt anyone to prove it, change into anything.”

  “Right about what?” she asked.

  “Right to put his faith in me. Right to trust me with a book and a message. Before we met, he was the only one who ever had.”

  Elenya and Astrid looked at each other, both perched their lips to speak. Perhaps to ask the others or themselves what they in turn demanded of the world. But a noise cut them short.

  Something scratched at the door.

  Time was up.

  Below is another Bloodborne inspired story that might be of interested to you, why don't you give it a try. As always, thank you for reading.